


The Emerald Starlight

by jammybadger



Category: Psychonauts (Video Games)
Genre: Angst, F/M, Hurt/Comfort, Platonic Relationships, Romantic Angst, Sort of? - Freeform, you can read it however you want
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-11-27
Updated: 2019-11-27
Packaged: 2021-02-25 21:13:54
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,197
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21582061
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jammybadger/pseuds/jammybadger
Summary: When a new faction of superpowered psychics starts tearing up the world, Sasha and Milla have to step in.But Sasha can look after himself, he doesn't need anyone.
Relationships: Sasha Nein/Milla Vodello
Kudos: 9





	1. 1

A good captain goes down with his ship, but a better captain teaches his men to swim. Many a man had become a slave to the currents, these dark highways of flow and ice. Even here, in a city teeming with life, they lay far below the surface, where no light dared to pierce.

Sasha Nein cut an angular, shadowy figure across the fading skyline of Sydney Harbour. Perched on the western arch of the Harbour Bridge, he stood stoic and unwavering against the evening wind, lit cigarette hovering nearby. Despite his better judgment, it seems, he’d neglected to wear something a little warmer. Australia was warm, or so he’d thought. He flicked his cigarette butt toward the gleaming fairground below, he adjusted his collar and focused his eyes upon the familiar pinkish glow emanating from below.

As if on cue, a brightly-clad woman floated up onto the weathered iron, tutting at the smouldering paper pinched between her fingers. She was deceptively tall, even without her folds of psychic energy encasing her white patent boots. Funny. Sasha had warned against her psychedelic claddings and loud fashion sense in an undercover mission but she seemed to make it work.

Milla Vodello, top levitator and master escape artist, twisted her lips into a mock frown, and flicked the cigarette back at her companion.

‘Dry season, darling. We might be in the suburbs, but bushfires are nothing to scoff about.

Sasha, of course, preceded to immediately scoff about it, but he knew better than to run his mouth. Especially when it came to fire.

‘Did you find anything in the city?’  
Milla settled into a cross-legged float, and gestured toward the glittering towers behind.

‘Apart from a good time, not especially. Oh, and you really must try to avoid Stonewall, darling. The music was good but according the locals it is, and I quote, “grotty as all fuck”.’

Sasha shrugged, and settled his gaze upon the horizon once more.

‘I sighted with a few Emeralds in the business district. They are certainly as dangerous as we suspected, but I do not anticipate any future harm.’

Milla’s eyes widened.

‘You went straight to the hub, Sasha?!’

He said nothing, and continued scanning the horizon. She sighed.

‘One of these days your arrogance will come back to bite you, darling.’

Sasha snorted, and waved his hand.

‘Please, I can handle myself.’

A dazzling bolt of green energy struck the black iron and sizzled to a cinder, centimeters from Sasha’s leg. Almost instantaneously a viridescent whip cut through the gloom and Milla flattened herself against the bridge, a few hairs from a singed cheek.

‘You might want to take that back, Sasha. We have company!’

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sydney harbor is beautiful! A gorgeous place to be at night, and it needs some love. Was gonna set this in New York but screw it! Aussie aussie aussie oy oy oy
> 
> Also, of course Milla would visit Oxford street (which for all you Americans, is the gay district). The local Milla is talking about is me. Stonewall is, for all intents and purposes, grotty as all fuck.
> 
> Good drinks though.


	2. 2

Truman Zanotto, head of the Psychonauts, slowly shifted his gaze between the papers in his hands and the two agents in front of him. His office, normally compact and organized, was in disarray around him. Various implements jutted from misclosed mahogany drawers, stuffed with photographs, clippings and files. 

Every single one of the holographic screens which floated around his bald head were a mess of all-too-familiar looping footage; people, not even psychics, with a strange green glow about them, wrecking carnage upon cities all across the world. In one, a postman pummeled his boss with a uniquely powerful green psy-blast. In another, a lady ran from a street vendor whose hands glowed green with long curved claws of energy. Most disturbingly, a flock of students evacuated a school building, barely dodging the streams of light flooding from a kindergartener’s eyes.

Truman tossed the report aside, and sighed.

‘It’s worse than we feared. Not only are enemy agents going berserk with these new powers, no, we’ve got civilian outbreaks on our hands.’

Across the table, Milla nursed a bandaged forearm.

‘We got what information we could from the Emeralds, Mr Zanotto, before they vanished. Reynard Olivine, the billionaire weapons dealer, has long since moved on from the initial phase of his plan.’

‘Whatever he’s up to now, he’s clearly not in control of it,’ interjected Sasha, grimly eyeing the footage. ‘It’s more important than ever that we take it down from the very source.’

Truman rocked back in his chair, rubbing the bridge of his nose.

‘Agent Nein, although your efforts have been admirable, we are yet to even establish an explanation for the Emeralds’ unique capabilities. Where does this power come from, what does Olivine want with it, and why do we suddenly have civilian psychics?!’

‘Mr Zanotto, the explanation may be closer than you think,’ Milla said carefully. ‘Our mission in Australia uncovered some data which you may find interesting.’

She tapped a panel on the desk, which glowed brightly and displayed a strange map. Truman leaned in with curiosity.

‘What is this?’

Sasha smiled slightly, and traced the map’s lines with a gloved finger.

‘This map depicts the frequencies of psychic energy in the atmosphere of affected regions. It would seem that although Emerald hubs are widespread in capital cities, the signal which is hypothesized to trigger the enhanced abilities appears to be extra-terrestrial in origin.’

Truman turned to face the gleeful scientist, stonefaced.

‘Have you come all the way back from the Southern Hemisphere to blame the works of Mr Olivine on…aliens?’

Milla allowed herself a small laugh, and zoomed in on the map.

‘Goodness no, Mr Zanotto sir. What my partner is referring to is…this!’

Clearly displayed on the map was a large, circular, and very menacing, space station.

The response had been immediate, of course, and the duo barely had time to debrief before their dispatch orders came through. Milla lounged in the dimly-lit departures terminal, hastily cramming the last of her dinner down her throat. Outside the metal walls, Sasha could hear the jet being shifted into launch position. At a cough from Milla, he turned with an eyebrow raised.

‘You’ll choke if you eat it like that.’

Milla shot him a look, skeptical. They’d barely had time to talk about their escape from Sydney, between hours of stealth flight and a barrage of preparation.

‘So now you’re worried about me, Sasha? Didn’t you get us into a fight with two superpowered thugs just 3 hours ago?’

‘I did what I had to do. You saw the footage.’

Milla pushed her plate away and sat back, arms folded. 

‘I also saw you nearly get blown to bits on Australia’s national monument, darling. What would have happened if he hadn’t missed, hm?’

Sasha shrugged, and faced the wall.

‘I would have dealt with it in due course.’

‘And crawled back here with one leg and a shattered mind! You almost got yourself killed!’

Sasha huffed as he adjusted his cuffs.

‘You’re overreacting.’

There was a resounding crash as the plate clattered to the floor and smashed, the table wobbling precariously. Milla levitated inches from Sasha’s face, hair spread as if in aggression, teeth gritted.

‘And what about me, Sasha? Would I have to carry you in pieces back to the Motherlobe?’

Breathing heavily, Milla regained her composure, and Sasha wilted.

‘You’re right, Camilla. I’m sorry. I won’t do that to you again.’

Three minutes later, they boarded the flight in silence.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I can't sleep, so here's the next bit.


End file.
